//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Please! No More Shopping! // Story: Magic School Days // by Dogger807 //------------------------------// Three little fillies, turned three little girls, said goodbye to their new deputy headmistress before watching as the educator went to the large fireplace. Somehow, the old human mare turned the flames green, and then she walked into the fire. In the blink of an eye, she was gone. With startled shrieks, the trio ran to the fireplace, each intent on earning their first aid cutie marks. Chuckling, the human stallion, whom they learned was named Tom, came up behind them. “I take it you girls aren’t familiar with floo travel.” The girls looked at him in wide-eyed panic. “Why don’t you come over here so you won’t be in the way.” Nearly as soon as the girls were standing next to him the flames once more flared green, and a skinny human stallion in a pale-yellow dress emerged. He nodded a greeting to Tom and the girls and made his way over to the bar. Still chuckling, Tom patted Apple Bloom on the head. “Wizards and witches have been coming and going the entire time you’ve been here. Don’t tell me you just now noticed them using the floo.” The CMC collectively did their best to dislocate their jaws and drop them on the floor. Tom’s chuckling turned into a belly laugh. “Well then, since you seem to be done eating, I suspect you’d like to see your room.” The girls followed Tom up the stairs and were soon standing in front of a door. Tom took a key out of an apron pocket and handed it to Scootaloo when he had a sudden thought. “Will it just be for the night, or are you planning to stay here until the train leaves for Hogwarts?” “Train?” three voices questioned. “Aye, the Hogwarts Express. Leaves the station in four days. I don’t suspect you’ll be wanting to wait on Platform 9 3/4 for the remaining time.” “We’d like the room for four days then,” Sweetie confirmed. Tom nodded vowing to himself to keep an eye on the children. “Do you have any bags that you need help bringing up?” Apple Bloom held up the pouch around her neck. “This here is our only bag.” Tom raised an eyebrow. “It’s bigger on the inside,” Sweetie Belle helpfully supplied. “Of course,” Tom nodded once more. “If you three need anything just come down and get me.” The girls thanked him before entering their room. They walked in, closed the door behind them and stood there. One minute passed and nopony said anything. Two minutes passed and nopony said anything. Three minutes passed and Apple Bloom said, “We’re gonna learn how to travel by fire?” The girls were quiet for another minute, then came the synchronized exclamation, “Cutie Mark Firemancers! Yeaaaah!” Now over their shock, the girls turned their attention to exploring their room. The bed was big and comfy, with plenty of room for the three of them. There was a desk, a dresser, and a pair of comfy chairs, big enough for two of them to sit in at once. Set into one wall was a door, which Scootaloo opened to find an attached bathroom. It has been noted that the CMC had a habit of frequenting the Everfree Forest. Their experiences inside had led to some strange habits. One such habit was their method of making themselves seem bigger and more threatening. They accomplished this by having Apple Bloom plant her feet on the ground; Sweetie Belle would then jump on her back followed by the light pegasus on top. The tactic served them remarkably well against the aggressive wildlife of the forest and, as such, became a reflexive maneuver. This was the position Tom and two other human stallions found the girls adopting when they came barging into the room. The frightened shrieking of the girls had been heard all the way downstairs over the usual din of the Leaky Cauldron. “What? What?” Tom and his help scanned the room brandishing their wands. “What’s wrong?!” A bizarre totem pole of cuteness, the three girls simultaneously pointed towards the bathroom. “THE MIRROR TALKS!” Sweetie Belle slowly awoke. She was content, if not very coherent. She snuggled closer to the source of warmth she was laying against. It was strangely smooth, a totally unexpected sensation that immediately brought her to full wakefulness. It was Scootaloo, a furless, still comatose Scootaloo. Realizing she’d get no more sleep, the naked Sweetie Belle slipped out of bed. It had taken a good half hour for them to get out of the outfits Discord had supplied. It was obvious that the humans always wore clothes; in fact, they seemed obsessed with dresses. Indeed, the only human that she could remember, who had not been wearing a dress had been Tom. Therefore, it was best to keep their clothes as well preserved as possible. As such, there would be no sleeping in them. Sweetie Belle wondered if they were going to need to buy more clothes as well. Then it hit her. She didn’t have her brush. Worse, she hadn’t brushed her teeth last night. Rarity would be horrified if she ever found out. “Girls get up!” She shouted at her friends “We’ve got things to do.” “Huh?” Apple Bloom rubbed her eyes and sat up. “We ain’t got nothin’ to do ‘til noon.” Scootaloo continued to snore softly. “We’ve got to buy soooo many things beside school stuff. We need brushes, and tooth brushes, and shampoo and conditioner and luggage and more clothes and more clothes and laundry soap and hair curlers and wash cloths and towels and and and that’s just the beginning.” For a second, Apple Bloom wondered when Rarity had gotten into the room. Meanwhile, Scootaloo continued to snore. “Ah suppose we could do a bit o’ shopping a’fore Minerva McGonagall comes to help us.” Apple Bloom disengaged herself from the bed, prodding Scootaloo sharply. “But first, I wanna visit the water shed a’fore the mirror wakes up.” “Good idea,” Sweetie agreed and headed toward the bathroom. Scootaloo snored some more. Unlike Scootaloo, the mirror was awake. Forty minutes later, the three girls bounced down the stairs into the Leaky Cauldron’s common room. Scootaloo, half awake, hadn’t tied her left shoe properly. Consequently, the loose string made her trip at the top of the stairs, and she took her two friends with her. “Ugh, Git off!” Apple Bloom said from the bottom of the resulting pile up. The patrons looked on with amusement, not worried about injuries. After all, witches were a lot more blunt force resistant than muggle children. After a bit of scrabbling, the girls were once again sitting in a booth. Instead of Tom, a human mare came over to take their order. Bowls of oatmeal and fruit were soon brought out and quickly consumed. “Food ‘round here ain’t so bad,” one of the girls commented. “Could use some more apples though.” The other two didn’t even bother to argue. “Anypony remember what’s on our quest list?” Scootaloo asked. “No quests until noon,” Sweetie Belle replied. “So, I’m declaring the official shopping and exploring side quest.” “But, shopping is part of the main quest,” Scootaloo whined. “You can’t ever have too much shopping,” Sweetie insisted. Suddenly, the fireplace flared and a human appeared, waved to the bartender and headed in the direction they wanted to go. “And that thar is our cue.” Apple Bloom led them back into Diagon Alley, following the human’s wake. In less of a hurry, the fillies wandered down the street. Sweetie Belle spotted their first stop, a small shop that sold basic household items. Fourteen galleons later she had stuffed many basic necessities into the pouch around Apple Bloom’s neck. “Do we really need six types of shampoo?” Scootaloo asked “We only have three types,” Sweetie corrected. “The other three are conditioner.” “OOOOOOOkay,” Scootaloo acknowledged, “but I’m still wondering how much room is left in that pouch.” “That’s okay,” Sweetie smiled. “We need luggage anyway.” Scootaloo winced, her strategy had backfired. There would be more shopping and less exploring. A few quick questions posed to a passing human mare, and their next stop was a trunk store. This was slightly upsetting for the girls; they had been expecting nice regular luggage. The trunks looked sturdy, cumbersome, and heavy. Apple Bloom, being an earth pony, was more worried about the cumbersome aspect than the overall weight. Some things were just easier to carry than others, weight non-withstanding. “Ah, welcome to my store. My name is Dylan,” the shop proprietor greeted his first customers of the day. “Here for some student trunks?” He pointed to a collection of trunks near the front of the shop. Scootaloo examined the merchandise and sighed, “Those look heavy.” Dylan chuckled, "I’m sure I can throw in a permanent featherweight charm for a galleon.” “Featherweight charm?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow, thinking of her Gringott's purse. As way of an explanation, he strolled to one of the trunks further back in the shop and proceeded to lift the heavy-looking oak luggage with his pinkie finger. “There are a lot of charms you can put on a trunk. Our top end products have a multitude. The basic student models have none, but they can have the standard three easily applied.” “What are the standard three?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Featherweight, muggle notice-me-not, and auto shrinking.” Dylan waved toward the trunks in the front again. “Tell you what, I’ll add them to your trunks at a discount. Shall we say a total of 7 galleons 8 sickles per trunk? “How much for one of those top end trunks you were talking about?” Sweetie tilted her head to the side and stuck her tongue out in concentration. “One of them would run you a hundred and thirty galleons at least.” “Great,” Sweetie smiled. “My sister always says not to skimp on good luggage, and you’ll save money in the long run. We’ll take three.” Dylan was amazed at the sudden turn of the conversation. There was no way he’d take advantage of three children though; he found himself in the awkward position of down selling a customer. “That’s a lot of money. Perhaps you would like something less extravagant.” “No, we’ll go top of the line please.” Scootaloo and Apple Bloom watched as Sweetie Belle continued to channel Rarity. The only thing missing was the word darling. Dylan, for his part was at a loss. These three did not look like the average spoiled rich children he was used to. He wasn’t sure which way to go with this anymore, so he went along. “I could have three ready for you by one this afternoon. Are you looking for a specific style?” “Whatever ya got handy,” Apple Bloom quickly answered as Sweetie Belle sucked in a breath to give a more detailed answer. Sweetie shot her a look of betrayal. “I’m going to have to ask for a hundred galleon retainer to get started though.” Dylan insisted, half expecting to put an end to the sale right there. In response, the girls pulled out their purses. Their appearance made Dylan feel much better. The quality of the bags denoted that his customers could afford his best. In fact, they probably had a bodyguard nearby who was professional enough to stay out of sight. But still, it did pay to be cautious, “May I suggest you limit the number of people who see those purses. It would be wise to keep a few loose coins in your pockets for smaller purchases.” “Um okay,” Scootaloo agreed for all of them. The shopping was going quicker than she feared. Professor McGonagall had completed several tasks when she had returned to the castle the night before. She had filled out the specific paperwork required to do a financial inquiry and had owled them off to Gringotts. Then, she had checked the accounts receivable ledger. She was pleased to see that the automatically updating book had recorded the girls as already being in full for the year. There would be no last-minute scholarship hunting in this case. That was one less worry. The next morning, there had been an owl waiting in her office first thing. It was from the girl’s account manager. Despite the letter being a politely worded ‘mind your own business’, Minerva was satisfied. Just having an account manager confirmed that they would be well within their means. This didn’t forego the whole disowning of magical relatives scenario, but at least money would not be a problem. Minerva thought for a moment that she could be giving in to pessimism, but when the welfare of children was an issue, it couldn’t hurt to fail on the side of caution. At the very least, someone needed to be brought to task for inadequately minding such small children. Which brought the opposite possibility to mind. Their guardians may lack an understanding of what age it would be appropriate to leave children alone in Diagon Alley, a wholly preposterous proposition. She would have time to visit the ministry before meeting the girls. Tom was not happy with his morning help. Becky had admitted to serving the girls earlier and seeing to them being fed. Yet, she had not done anything to keep them in the tavern, instead she had let them go wander the alley on their own. In her defense, she had thought that they were with Robyn Wetherwell, who was the witch they had followed into the alley. “Hey girls,” Scootaloo exclaimed, “look here. There’s some interesting looking shops down this side alley.” They hadn’t gone two steps in that direction before a human mare rushed out of her shop and shooed them away, saying something about knock and burns being no place for them. Minerva stepped out of the records office. Her investigations had resulted in the names of the girls’ guardians and magical guardians. Each girl had a single guardian for both magical and non-magical purposes. They weren’t muggle-born then. This only served to confuse the situation more. The office workers had found the paperwork to be complete, if not odd. The names of the guardians were distinctive as well: Rarity Belle, Apple Jack, and Rainbow Dash. “Look!” Sweetie squeaked. “Ice cream.” There was a scramble to find seats. Discord stood in the void and produced a pair of maracas. “Montage montage,” he chanted, shaking the instruments. Becky wandered down through Diagon alley, looking for the brightly-colored children whom Tom was worrying over. She spotted them at Florean Fortescue’s attacking an impossibly large sundae between the three of them. There was no reason to interrupt. She’d let her boss know what she found. Minerva arrived at the Leaky Cauldron with plenty of time to spare. She should have time for a cuppa and a sandwich before the girls were due to come down for their shopping. “Look, girls” Apple Bloom interrupted the trek back to the Leaky Cauldron for their appointment with Minerva. “A Fluttershy shop.” The girls paused a moment to owl watch. Tom wandered over to where Minerva had seated herself to watch the stairs for the girls’ entrance. “You’re looking the wrong way for the girls. Becky tells me they already found Fortescue’s.” Minerva sighed and redirected her attention toward the alley’s entrance precisely as the smiling children wandered into the tavern. In that instance, she knew exactly whose house they would be sorted into. “Miss Bloom, Miss Belle, and Miss Aloo.” She greeted them, noting that they were wearing the same clothes as yesterday. “I see that you couldn’t contain your patience and proceeded without me.” “We had to pick up a few things besides school supplies,” Miss Belle explained. “I see.” Minerva gestured for the girls to have a seat. “Have you eaten lunch as well?” “We’ve had ice cream.” Miss Bloom grinned. “Miss Bloom,” Minerva counseled, “ice cream is a dessert, not a meal.” “It had peanuts, and pineapple and bananas,” Miss Aloo volunteered. Minerva gave her a look letting her know that would not be sufficient. “In that case, before we commence shopping, I have a few questions. You appear to be wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Am I to understand you have no other outfits with you?” “Um, I left all my other dresses at home,” Miss Belle confirmed, “I guess we’ll need a couple more?” “Yah, this is my only bow. Ah’m gonna need more of em,” Miss Bloom agreed “I assume that you’ll be needing undergarments as well.” Minerva received three blank looks in response. Two plus two was not equaling four here. “Are you expecting luggage to be delivered for you? Perhaps a pet like a cat.” “No cats!” Miss Belle shuddered. “Definitely no cat.” Minerva studied the bright-haired children in front of her and then said, “Very well, I can see that we’re going to need to do extra shopping today.” This got a groan from Misses Bloom and Aloo. “Shall we then?” She led the children to the alley and herded them to Ollivander’s right away. Normally his shop would be last on the list, but she had the feeling he might have some trouble pairing these witches with their wands. The girls were enamored by the cluttered little store. They excitedly took in the sight of a multitude of boxes. And per his habit, Ollivander managed to somehow sneak up on his young customers. “My, you are a curious lot.” The three girls all squealed and whirled to face the eccentric wand maker. “This should be most interesting,” he continued. “Welcome to my little shop. You’re here for your first wands.” “uuuu, Hello,” Miss Bloom shyly returned as the other two girls watched Ollivander with wide eyes. He turned his attention to the redhead. “Indeed- Hello.” He ran his eyes over her form, taking in details that only he seemed to understand. “Shall we start with you then, Miss?” He trailed off, obviously expecting a name. “Mah name is Apple Bloom.” “Very well, Miss Bloom. Which hand is your wand hand?” Ollivander nodded when Miss Bloom hesitantly offered her right hand. He summoned a measuring tape from somewhere and set it to measuring, a task it did completely independent of the old man. Miss Bloom wasn’t sure if she should be keeping her eye on the animated and intrusive tape or the creepy old shopkeeper. After a minute, Ollivander exclaimed, “How intriguing, let’s see now. Maple 12 and a half inches with welsh green heartstring.” He deposited an ornate stick into Miss Bloom’s hand. “Give this a wave.” Confused, she complied and the wand was snatched from her hand. “No, no. Oak, Ridgeback nine and a quarter inch?” A different wand found its way into Apple Bloom's hand. Another wave and another snatch later, he mused, “Hmm ten inches dogwood phoenix feather, rather playful.” Swish, snatch again, he continued. “No, eight and seven eights phoenix feather one more time.” Ollivander handed over yet another wand. “This one is made of . . .” That’s as far as he got before Miss Bloom swished. Unbeknownst to everyone present, a small seed had fallen from the shoe of a previous customer; ending up lodged in the cracks of the wooden floor. The wand, jubilant at meeting its witch, channeled magic into that seed. There was an array of cracking and snapping, and in a blink of an eye, there was a plant stalk from the floor up and through the ceiling. It had to be at least six inches in diameter at the trunk. Everyone in the shop stared at the new addition. “Let me guess,” Miss Belle deadpanned. “That one was Applewood.” A huge grin crossed Ollivander’s face. “Why, yes. Yes, it was.” “Figures,” muttered Miss Aloo. The process was then repeated for the other two girls. Miss Belle was chosen by a 12-inch acacia and unicorn hair, while Miss Aloo found her match in an eleven and three quarters inched hazel wand, again with unicorn hair. “Excellent, excellent,” Mr. Ollivander beamed as he fixed the damage caused by Miss Aloo’s wand acceptance. “That was a most pleasing round of wand matching.” Miss Aloo held her wand at arm’s length and asked, “This isn’t gonna just blow up in my pocket, is it?” “Unless you're channeling magic, there’s no need to fret over a magical surge.” Ollivander shook his head. “But, if you’re still worried I have wand holsters that help prevent accidental wand channeling. For a hazel wand, they are an advisable precaution.” “We’ll take three,” Miss Belle declared and retrieved her money pouch. She was familiar with magical surges and was willing to take whatever precautions that were available. There was an exchange of money, and then the girls were standing in front of the shop with their wands holstered on their left arms. “Shall we see about getting you three some student trunks,” Minerva suggested, “Carrying your purchases will be easier once you have one.” “Oh, yeah,” Miss Bloom smiled. “Our trunks should be ready by now.” “Ready?” Minerva raised an eyebrow. “You ordered custom trunks?” “Maybe?” the girls answered honestly. The walk to Dylan’s store was uneventful, and he was surprised to see the girls were followed by Professor McGonagall. He waved at his assistant, letting him know that it was time for him to mind the till. “Hello again.” Dylan bowed. “Your orders are done. If you follow me into the back, I’ll be happy to give you a demonstration.” Professor McGonagall wondered what manner of trunks the girls had purchased that they needed demonstrations. In the back were three identical cherrywood chests. They were the same size as the student models out front and lacked any impression of being different. That is, save for a metal plate where the lock normally would be. “Each of you take your wand and place the tip on the center circle etched in the faceplate,” Dylan commanded. “Then say ‘Sibi Stipitem’.” The girls did as they were told. Nothing seemed to happen. “That binds the trunks to you as the owner,” Dylan assured. “To shrink your chest, just tap the circle three times with your wand.” Shortly there were three matchbox-sized trunks. “And tap them anywhere three times to regrow.” Instantly three trunks returned to their original size. “Each trunk has six compartments; you access each individually by tapping one of the six squares under the main circle rune and saying ‘open’.” Professor McGonagall interrupted him. “If you have an instruction book, then the children can play with their trunks later. I’m afraid we have substantially more shopping to complete today.” “Of course,” Dylan quickly agreed. “They can also come back here if they have any questions.” The next stop turned out to be called Madam Malkin’s. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom suffered through ninety-some minutes of torture as Professor McGonagall, Sweetie Belle, and the proprietress cobbled together three complete wardrobes. The only highlight was finding out that the first compartment of each trunk was four times bigger than the trunk was itself. It was after this ordeal that they learned they could give shop owners their vault keys to stamp authorization for payment from their vault, a handy bit of knowledge, that. From there, they went to Flourish and Blotts. They quickly realized they were going to come back later, because there was no way they’d hear the end of it if they didn’t bring back a small library for Twilight. As it was, Apple Bloom collected a dozen potion books above and beyond what was required. Professor McGonagall had assured her that the books in the school library would be more than adequate at supplementing the course book, but Apple Bloom insisted on buying them anyway. A few stops later, they had everything on the list. The entire time Minerva continued to observe the reactions of her charges. She was getting more and more puzzled by their strange mixture of witch-born and muggle-born demeanor. Soon enough, they entered the girls’ rented room, exhausted from the day of shopping. They were surprised to find a large owl waiting for them in the room. Startled the girls gawked at the bird. “You should probably get your mail.” Minerva prodded Miss Aloo toward the bird. Sure enough, there was a letter tied to the bird’s leg, which Scootaloo quickly collected, never taking her eyes off the sharp beak. “What is it?” Apple Bloom asked. “I’m not sure,” Scootaloo handed her the opened letter. “It has a lot of words I don’t know.” “Well than.” Apple Bloom backed away. “Don’t be givin’ that here then. Sweetie Belle is a standing right thar.” “If I may?” Minerva held out her hand to request the letter. She studied it for a minute and said, “These are forms required to be signed in order to allow your account manager access to your accounts for investment and other management.” “Oh, that’s right,” Scootaloo acknowledged. “Glemstone did say we’d be getting an account manager.” “You need to sign here.” Minerva pointed to the signature lines and handed over a quill she transformed from a small mint that had been sitting in a bowl on the dresser. Scootaloo marveled at the quill for a minute before accepting it and signing the form . . .with her mouth. Now, this is not a sitcom. People do not stand around ignoring clues all day when the answer is something outside the realm of normalcy. Furthermore, Minerva was not stupid. The brightly colored hair, almost no regards for clothing, the apparent gibberish for an address, access to seemingly large amounts of funds, the unusual records at the ministry, the peculiar names, all the little, funny things they said, and finally, writing with their mouths, these three children were not what they seemed. They were not human. Minerva frowned and waved her wand, muttering a spell. There! The pendants each girl was wearing. Another wave and the pendants were summoned into her waiting hand. Minerva blinked, and wished she had an anti-cuteness spell.